Dyno Don: The Cars and Career of Dyno Don Nicholson. Doug Boyce
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believed to be Harold Nicholson standing on the left of the truck. (Photo Courtesy Don Montgomery)
In 1939, the Nicholsons had been hit hard by the Great Depression, so they loaded up their 1934 Chevy and headed for the promised land of southern California. After a turbulent 1,500 miles that included driving through the brunt of a Texas tornado, the family finally touched down in their new home of Pasadena. The Nicholsons purchased a Victorian house on Los Robles Avenue, where Logan, a carpenter by trade, opened a saw-sharpening shop in one of the two out-buildings off the back alley.
By 1941, Don had a paper route, and he had taken over the other out-building to repair bikes and scooters. Within a few years, Don and his older brother Harold used the garage to open their first “speed shop.” The Nicholsons, led by eldest son Warren the beekeeper, also jarred and sold honey out of the front of the home.
Here’s a rare shot of Don in his Navy gear with his brothers Warren (right) and Harold (left). This photo was snapped near the end of World War II. The two elder Nicholsons were home on furlough while it looks like Don was preparing for his stint. (Photo Courtesy Nicholson Family Collection)
While attending Pasadena Junior College, Don studied mechanical engineering. After class, he worked in a local body shop, honing a trade that he returned to on and off through his life. It seemed that every spare moment was spent toying with his 1934 Chevy. The car was originally Harold’s, but he passed it to Don when he joined the service in 1942. Don was close to Harold, who was a little more than three years older; the pair spent plenty of time street racing. It’s said that back then the serious action was taking place down in the Los Angeles River bed. And serious it was. There were times when Nicholson’s Chevy came home with bullet holes in the back. Running a 235-ci Chevy mill hopped up with a Harman & Collins cam, Stromberg carbs, a Spaulding ignition, and a reworked head, the Chevy had no problem putting away the flathead Fords that were supposed to be faster.
The Nicholsons’s 1934 Ford coupe cum roadster at Paradise Mesa in San Diego, circa 1951. Crude as it appears, the Car was one of the most feared cars of the period. To the right is Don Blair’s lakes roadster. (Photo ©TEN: The Enthusiast Network. All Rights Reserved.)
By 18, Don had racked up more than his share of speeding tickets, which eventually led to a date in front of a judge. Said judge gave Don the option of either joining the U.S. Navy or going to jail. Don immediately joined the navy. In doing so, his less-than-stellar driving record was wiped clean and his stack of tickets dismissed. In 1945, Don was sent to boot camp in San Diego and he wrapped up training at the end of June. Reportedly, he was on his way to the Philippines when the war ended in September. Once he was free of the navy, Don joined Harold and the pair returned to their racing activities. Their interests included the dry lakes and a trip to El Mirage in April 1948 for an event sanctioned by the Southern California Timing Association (SCTA). At this event, Don drove away with a record of 128.38 mph. Considering the competition, which included Ak Miller, Stu Hilborn, Dick Kraft, and others, the relatively unknown Nicholson brothers were quickly making a name for themselves.
Don had a great personality and always seemed to have a smile on his face. In the late 1940s, he ran with the California Roadster Association, rubbing fenders with future Indy champ Troy Ruttman, among others. Safety was low on the totem pole and Don valued his life more than the racing, so he gave up the dirt tracks after a couple seasons. (Photo Courtesy Nicholson Family Collection)
That’s Don standing on the left and his brother Harold behind the wheel of the pair’s A/Modified Roadster. Though Don was a good driver, he found working on the car to make it go faster a lot more fun. Here at Santa Maria in 1954, the Bantam is powered by a 296-inch Merc, which propelled it to 118.11 mph times this day. The Jimmy 6 in the Bantam featured a Wayne F. Horning 12-port head and a side-mount GMC blower on a fabricated intake. (Photo ©TEN: The Enthusiast Network. All Rights Reserved.)
Showing their diversity, the brothers were members of the California Roadster Association and ran a 1926 Chevy-powered T Roadster for a couple years around southern California tracks. The Roadster appeared in the November 1950 issue of Hot Rod magazine, which covered a 75-lap race at Porterville. At that 33-car race, Don came in second. In a Rodder’s Journal magazine article, Don was quoted to say, “I quit running track roadsters because the cars weren’t safe at all. A guy ran up over the back of me and hit my helmet with his wheel.”
In 1950, Don went to work for Ollie Prather at his Arcadia Body Shop on 1st Avenue. According to Prather, at the time Don was running a 1950 Chevy. In a previous interview, Prather stated, “Don worked for me a couple years but his heart wasn’t really in it. He wanted to race and ran his Chevy as far away as the San Fernando Valley.”
The Chevy appeared in the first issue of Rod & Custom, which was called Rods and Customs for that first issue in May 1953. By then, the Chevy was powered by a 302-inch GMC that produced an estimated 240 hp and had no problem dusting off hot Caddys, Fords, and the top-end charge of foreign jobs such as the Jaguar XK-E. Showing a little ingenuity, Don tricked out the 302 with fabricated headers, intake, and high energy ignition. The highly modified mill was backed by an overdrive transmission Don built using 1949 Ford and Lincoln-Zephyr parts. The Chevy held the Gas Coupe record for its weight class at Pomona, running 95.94 mph. In 1952, Don left Prather’s but didn’t go far. He and Harold opened the Nicholson Bros. Speed Shop right next door.
Prior to C. J. “Pappy” Hart opening the nation’s first dragstrip at Santa Ana in 1950, Don and other like-minded souls were out racing on the airstrip, to the disdain of local constables. When Hart opened the gates, Don and Harold were among the first to enter. At the time, the brothers were running a GMC-powered 1934 Ford. The car was typical of the stripped-down racers of the day: no fenders, no roof, and no interior. To aid traction, the Chevy ran a set of dual rear wheels. It was said to be the quickest car at Santa Ana in 1950, clocking 120 mph. Don followed with a number of primitive cars, including an Altered, again powered by a Jimmy 6. In 1952, he showed no fear in propelling the A/Dragster of Bubby Walton to 150 mph.
However, for Don, life wasn’t all about cars. On May 22, 1950, he married his sweetheart, Patricia McNamara. Patty was a local Pasadena girl who met Don through mutual friends in 1948. Neither wanted a large wedding, so they eloped and were married by a Catholic priest in Las Vegas. Don, raised in a Protestant home, took the necessary classes to convert. This flew in the face of Don’s strict father and drove a wedge between the family. This didn’t affect Patty and Don’s relationship; the two proved to be the consummate lovebirds and were inseparable through the years.
Proud parents, Don and Patty, pose with their little bundle of joy, Cindy, who is approximately five months old in this photo. Cindy was the only child for the couple and, when old enough, she often traveled to the races with Mom and Dad. Don enjoyed hunting, and the mounted deer seen hanging to the rear in the photo was one he bagged in the San Bernardino Mountains. (Photo Courtesy Nicholson Family Collection)
In 1956, the pair celebrated the birth of their only child, a bright-eyed girl they named Cindy. At the time of Cindy’s birth, Don and Harold were running their operations, calling it Horsepower Specialties, out of an old service station on Lime Avenue in Monrovia. In 1957, Don was toying with a hopped-up 1952 Lincoln, taking it out to Riverside where he clocked 100 mph times. Patty also got in on the action, making a pass or two of her own. Family friend Lloyd Eggstaff recalled, “Don was always so calm and cool. We were all in the Lincoln driving to the track one day down Route 66, doing about 100 when a car coming in the opposite direction took a slow turn into our path. Don remained calm and said